


Missing a Hug

by Caladenia



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Kathryn Janeway Needs a Hug, fluff with a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caladenia/pseuds/Caladenia
Summary: How difficult can it be to get a hug on this ship? The captain and her first officer ponder that question separately.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 37
Kudos: 98
Collections: Kathryn Janeway Needs A Hug





	Missing a Hug

**Author's Note:**

> For my daughter. She gives excellent hugs.

It all starts when Tom hugs Harry in the corridor, almost lifting the young man off his feet. Nothing more than an over-enthusiastic Paris, although, with him, enthusiasm often means something shady is going on.

She doesn’t know. Doesn’t want to know, really. All she can still see in her mind hours later and back in her ready room is Harry turning to welcome his friend, a beaming smile on his face. He slapped Tom on the back and the two men walked past her, not even noticing her gasping, as if she’d beached herself and the tide had run off somewhere she would never reach now.

Six months. A mere six months in their journey, and she can’t get that hug out of her mind. Of all the things she’s left behind when stranding the ship, a hug is hardly what she thought she would miss most.

A career. Friends and family. A dog.

A good man and promises of a future together.

All those are now footprints in wet sand erased even as she stumbles forward, trying to hold on to a future which is very unlikely to exist anymore.

So. A hug. Big deal. Except her mind goes in overdrive, and suddenly half of the ship is hugging the other half right in front of her.

Kes and Neelix. Neelix and everybody else, including her, but it feels like she is patting a dog.

B’Elanna and Seska, before they sit down for lunch in the mess hall. Chakotay and the dark and silent Maquis, Ayala, as they leave the holodeck one day together, and she’s waiting for their program to finish before starting hers. Which she doesn’t even activate once inside. She sits on the floor instead, propped against the bare wall and an inch away from crying.

All because she wishes for a hug.

She gets up, wipes a sniffle with her sleeve and leaves the holodeck.

It’s ridiculous. It’s not like she doesn’t get ‘hugged’ by alien dignitaries who've got no sense of personal space whatsoever. She’s been squeezed to an inch of passing out, her feet trodden on, heavy breaths sliding down her neck more often than not. For one trade mission which goes as well as expected, there’s three that devolve into the start of a mating workout. All she can do is smile and evade the prying hands and agile fingers seeking a gap between her uniform and her captainly poise.

‘Let’s have sex first, then we trade’ is a definition of first contact nobody warned her about at the academy.

As much as she’s sick of that crudeness, she still returns to her quarters starved of contact. Of strong arms. Of ‘ _well done_ ’ and ‘ _I’m happy to see you_ ’ and ‘ _Thank God, you’re okay_.’

Perhaps she should submit a lost post on the message board the crew uses: _Missing a hug. Please return it._

At least she can see the funny side of the whole thing. If all she’s suffering from is a lack of hugs, she’ll survive. That’s what she tells herself before sliding between the empty sheets of an empty bed.

She lies there, her eyes looking at the ceiling. _Voyager_ ’s database has got nothing on that particular affliction. No captain has ever mentioned it in their logs. Must just be her. A character flaw that the ‘fleet psychologists never detected when she applied to command school.

And who’s the crewmember who’s going to touch her, anyway? Nothing as solid, as obvious as a hug. As comforting. As familiar.

Because that’s the hitch.

A hug is something that’s given between family or friends. When somebody is upset, and you want to be there for them. It doesn’t feel awkward because you know that person and they know you. It takes time to deserve a hug. Six months down the track, her crew has earned that right. They are one crew, after all. Exactly what she was after when she welcomed the Maquis on board and made Chakotay her first officer.

She turns on her side. She wants a hug from him. God knows that she’s left enough hints. Hands on his shoulder, a poke at his stomach. Fingers sprawled on his chest.

The man is blind, obviously. She’s not after his virginity for god’s sake.

Her hands clasp the hem of the sheet as she rolls again on her back. Okay, she is. She needs more than a hug from him, but that will have to remain her night time fantasy. She can’t go down that path during the day with her second-in-command.

Her Starfleet-imposed first officer, Cavit, would never have hugged her, that’s for sure. She turns the other way, facing the bedside table. She feels like an idiot. All she wants is a damn hug, but she should as well forget it. That’s all there is to it.

And she does. Or so she thinks.

When Chakotay asks what she’d like for her birthday and she’s got her nose in an engineering report, and she’s not thinking and mutters ‘ _I just want a hug_ ’ under her breath, she doesn’t see his jaw drop, his eyes squint and a pained smile form on his lips.

He is not deaf. He heard his captain, and he’s not sure what to do. Because he understands. As the length of their journey has become hard reality, it’s not that she wants a hug. She needs one. But of course, she would never accept it.

He ponders the puzzle while walking down the corridor towards the holodeck. Should he pull her to him as she lays her hand on his chest? Put his arms around her, careful not to crash her and say Happy Birthday? Not a good idea. She’ll feel embarrassed in front of her crew, wanting to push him away and he can’t bear the thought.

What if he captures her wrist and spins her around when she touches his shoulder, and he buries his face in her neck and—

The holodeck door remains closed, and he has to enter his access code a second time. He wishes for a hug right now, to stop him from thinking of more. Because a hug cannot be taken as anything else than a friendly gesture, disrobed of any suggestive meaning.

He hits the boxing bag. It’s obvious that’s all she wants from him, so how difficult can it be to give a hug to a friend? He hits the bag harder, his tactical mind going round in circles as his arms tire. When the session ends, he’s got no solution in sight than to wait for the right time.

She smiles at the glorious rainbow birthday cake Neelix has replicated for her. She’s got pink frosting on her top lip, and he doesn’t tell her until they are on their way to the bridge. With a nod from her, he brushes his thumb against the offending frosting and slowly wipes it off. Then Tuvok comes behind them with a query, and the moment has passed.

He feels like an idiot. All he wants is to give her that damn hug, but he should as well forget it. That’s all there is to it.

And he does. Or so he thinks.

When it happens, she’s standing alone on the bridge, watching the planet they’ve saved from a psychotic weapon bent on annihilation. He is incensed at her for sending him away to organise the evacuation while she stayed behind, ready to sacrifice herself and the ship to destroy the Dreadnought. Tuvok is the only one whom she allowed at her side when everybody else had gone. She does not consider her first officer a friend after all, and he’s misread all those signs she’s given him. The touches here and there, the crooked smiles and raspy voice.

He stops on the threshold of the bridge turbolift, waiting for his orders. She’s leaning over the helm, her shoulders slumped and shivers running down her back. “Kathryn,” he says in the empty bridge when he realises she’s trembling. She turns, her face ashen. In a few strides, he’s got her in his arms.

Because he needs that hug. Right now. Just to make sure she’s alive, before he remembers why he shouldn’t be embracing his captain as if he is drowning, so he says the first thing that comes to his mind.

And alive she is, his strong arms almost lifting her off the floor. She can hear his relief when he whispers in her hair ‘ _Sorry. I know it’s a bit late, but happy birthday’_. She laughs and returns his hug, feeding off the strength of the man she had to protect the only way she could by sending him away.

What will come of this hug which is so much more than a hug is for another birthday, she hopes. You can’t hurry those things. She’s safe for now. Warm. Wanted.

That evening, an anonymous post makes it onto the ship message board. _Hug found. Thank you._

**Author's Note:**

> Masterfully betaed by BlackVelvet42 herself.


End file.
